Wednesday, August 25, 2010

Having been deployed for some distant warfor some time now,I feel cinematic, in my re-appearance on the horizon.all blaze and smoke and colored hazeuniform (same dress, every day, a ragdoll costume)soldiering for something unclear, foggy.Fighting tooth and nail for freedom by day,stubbornly and bravely,and then nightly, tying my own bindsout of fear of moonlight mutiny.

My absentee-ballot, unfortunately, seems to have been lost,and I haven't updated my address since I left the floodzone,so I'll do that now.And I'll take back my voice, my vote.And I'll make some decisions.Most of all I won't dwell on battlescars.I will not submit to regret for lives lost,it was all in the name of Freedom, after all.

((so you too, take up your sword.Let's join forces with the foxes,and read poetry as prayer,and say thank you, thank you,thank you to objectsthat may not even breathe. -avm))

Monday, August 16, 2010

in a dream last nightthe steering wheel of my car came off.underneath, it was revealed to be sealed only with a dab of hot gluewhich had yellowed, hardened, become like resin-A place for insect skeletons.i gave up on the car, and all of my belongingsfollowed a long trail of powerlines down a flat, long highway in the desert.how did i get to the desert?

when I wokestill in a state of sleeplogicI rolled over to my side,pulled a pillow in to rest between elbows and ribsand laughed at how simple the answer was:shoulda just licked the glue, stuck it back on.

Saturday, August 14, 2010

The narrative of communicationHas become embarrassingly straight forwardAnd what room is there for metaphor?For romance?When we check in with everyone so frequently that there is no longingOr deprivation of informationThat creates desire?

Sometimes I think Best has it rightWhen she falls off of the mapFor weeks at a timeLeaving a trail of question marks bouncing in her wake -reigniting the idea of intrigue.We are becoming creatures who want to know everything.And once we do, what else will there be to learn?How much time do we have to evolve,really,If we spend so much of it reporting where we are at?

A story:I have never been good at balance, I know this.An office job I held for three years (with two slippery fingers, by the end of it)Asked for frequent reports of progressAnd this, eventually was enough reason to leaveBecause how can I move forwardAnd also tell you where I am going?I know it's possible - I know.But maybe not for me?

And are we still lovable, with nothing left to learn about us?

So many relationships beginWith the phrase:"I'd like to get to know you better"And then, there comes a pointWhere we know each other too well.

Saturday, August 7, 2010

Wednesday, August 4, 2010

"It was then that Tristan came into the quiet heart of his life.The bear inside him was sleeping.It is hard to tell of happiness.Time goes by and we feel safe too soon." - Legends of the Fall

I am, for the moment, wordless.And so I borrow the words of others.The words that ring in my head,Get stuck, like songs.And just as I wonder about the idea of silenceAnd not communicatingI get a message from Best,And she asks for words from a book I have taken with me,Words that I read aloud in a bathtub in low light two evenings ago,And they are these. And they are perfect:

You came one day andas usual in such matterssignificance filled everything--your eyes, the things youknew, the way you turned,leaned, stood, or satthis way or that: whenyou left, the area around here rosea tilted tide, and everything thatoffers desolation drained away.